


coins

by panftdarling



Series: picture, you're the queen of everything and i'll be your guardian [2]
Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Excessive Swearing, Multi, spy AU, will add more tags as chapters go on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5842855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panftdarling/pseuds/panftdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're the greatest pretender this school has ever had, and no matter how attracted I am to you, I can't get it out of my head that you're an enemy."</p><p>
  <i>or</i>
</p><p>In which the two sides of a coin meant more than just heads or tails, and Elsa fell in love before she learned to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coins

**Author's Note:**

> This was posted on my FFN account, and I quickly revised it and posted it here. I'd like to share this to a wider audience and I hope you guys like it. Most of everything I want to say is in the FFN version :)

**Burgess, PA — 8:10am**

It was never about the length of her hair, and how it has always been blonde – the advantage to this is, it could be dipped and shampooed over with numerous different unorthodox colors of hair dye, and it would still look good on her. She learned as a child never to wash away the temporary façade of hair coloring. It was essential, after all, for people living _that_ lifestyle.

Hiding under pretense for so long, she has completely forgotten who she is—was. What does she like—her favorite color, her favorite season, or what kind of ice cream tastes nice. And she has worn too many different colored contacts that blue doesn't seem so natural anymore. She even sometimes forgets her real name is Elsa once in a while – because she’s been Kate, and Allyson, and Catherine for such a long time, the names have blurred and merged into something like numbers.

But here she stands, with the freedom she's long dreamed of there at the palm her hand, and suddenly, it doesn't seem so nice anymore. Maybe it's because change is a big thing and she's not just quite used to it yet. Or maybe, she's grown so accustomed to the life of masks and fake smiles and false identities that suddenly, being stripped of all this crime feels like she is once again stripped of herself. She feels the daunting emotions that she has long been suppressed after all this time, and she realizes – maybe there's still a bit of humanity left in her, after all.

"Elsa, are you ready?"

A gentle call echoes through the room and sends tinkling shivers that crawl up her skin. A woman, early forties with a sweet smile and bun-tied brown hair stands at her door. She shuffles in with soft slippers and a nervous croak of her throat, before standing beside the blonde teenager who continues to busy herself with scrutinizing every inch of her new uniform.

"You look so beautiful." The older woman whispers hoarsely. "I never knew you could grow up to be such a beautiful young woman. And I'm proud."

"Even with all the lives that's been lost by this very hand?"

The bite in Elsa's words catches the woman off-guard and she feels air choking her lungs.

"It is not your place to comment on what I am now – be it my looks, my intelligence, or the things that I've done. You've lost that right the day you gave me up,  _mother_."

"I never wanted to give you up and you know that. It was needed."

Elsa doesn't bother to listen. Instead, she picks up her bag, and calmly leaves her room. The creak her steps make on the wooden floor resonate against the older woman's ears, as if penetrating her heart with seventeen years of guilt that she's never experienced before.

When the musty air gusts over Elsa's cheeks the minute she's out the front door, everything is suddenly okay. As if reality is melting away and the feeling of those late nights wondering what freedom would taste like, all comes rushing back to her. And she feels it; in her bones, through the blood in her veins—it courses through and through her and she feels like she belongs. The cliché of a puzzle piece fitting perfectly right there on the very center of the image dawns on her, and she thinks,  _maybe it's not so bad_.

And it isn't. Because screw pretending, and screw everything else that long ago has forced her freedom into exile. Now she's here and it's the wind, and the sun, and the dews on the grass that is making seventeen years of isolation and confinement so totally worth it.

And on the other end of fate's kaleidoscope is a boy – white haired with mischief in his eyes – skate boarding out of his house and stopping before a turn on the street where he hears a loud and fast call of his name.

"Jackson Overland Frost!"

He grins back at the seventeen year old girl, his pearly whites shining, and her purple eyes stare at them admirably. She chuckles shyly, with three fingers over her lips, and the green dye on her fringe is bright under the blazing sunlight.

"You forgot something."

She hands him an envelope, manila and tied with a red ribbon, stamped graciously with a seal. He carefully takes it, his hand graceful in untying the knot and opening up the contents of the paper. His eyes scan each word, every letter that's printed on the cold white sheet of paper. And he gets it.

"I hope you have fun."

"I will."

He folds the paper up and once again hides it in the envelope. Handing the item back to the girl, he grins—the kind of grin that hides something of a mystery within him that not even his eyes can portray.

"And good luck breaking up with her."

Ready for takeoff, he turns to look at the girl; the up curve of his lips fading into a frown and he lets out a soft sigh.

"Tooth, it's for the best and you know it—heck, even she knows it!"

"I know it."

"I'll be careful in case she tries to kick my ass."

There's that summertime grin of his, back plastered on his face, and he bolts before she could make another comment, his laugh dancing with the wind. His skateboard leads him up the ramp of their small neighborhood. And then he speeds ahead, using one leg off the board to accelerate, blades of grass being cut by the wheels beneath him. But he can't care less. Because today starts another mission—another adventure. And boy, did he live for those.

**Corona Sin Clair School for the Gifted — 8:33am**

Elsa arrives into a tall Victorian styled building, with towers arched in a gothic fashion and finely carved patterns decorating the front gates. This is it, Corona Sin Clair's School of the Gifted; a special institution for those who presented an  _extraordinary_  talent.

"I'm here."

She whispers to no one in particular, eyes wide in awe at the beautiful building that stands before her. Students pass by with their different colored hair and accents so thick she wonders if they are really conversing in English. The smell that surrounds her is that of fresh pine cones and roses, and a vanilla waft that lingers in every breath she takes in. And just when she feels herself melting into the environment around her—

"LOOK OUT!"

Only three steps towards the reception, and a reckless student manages to stumble—literally—towards her with his stupid skateboard, causing both of them to crash land to the ground with loud grumbles and incoherent phrases.

"What the—"

"Miss, are you okay?"

She is about to speak, let out a loud bark of complaint about how one should not be coming into the halls with such a deathtrap, until she locks eyes with him. Those light blues that hold within them such sincerity she’s never seen before, and a charm that catches her, leaving her a stuttering mess before the very handsome young man.

"I—um…you…okay…I—"

"Oh—kay?"

He laughs breathlessly, a sheepish tug at his lips as he scratches the back of his neck. He stands with books in one hand, and the other picking up his skateboard.

"I'm so sorry about that."

"O-okay—it's."

Elsa inwardly curses herself for fumbling so much with her words. She's never been so tongue-tied and nervous before – and that's saying a lot because she has lived the life of an actress, pretending to be someone she's not, reciting memorized lines, on a daily basis. And it makes her wonder— _is this what it's like to be real_?

"You're cute." He laughs again, a whimsical tune that smoothly escapes from the back of his throat and sends Elsa blushing furiously. "I'd like to stay and chat, but I have an important issue to attend."

"That's—"

"However,  _Miss Stumble on her Words_ , I'd like to make it up to you."

He speaks with his eyes – the way they look at her, and the mischief that hides within them. And she's hypnotized, so mesmerized; she doesn't realize he's slowly taking her hand up to his lips. Only then does she react with a gasp when she feels the soft brush against her knuckles.

"I'll see you soon."

And just as quick as he came, he's gone. And Elsa is left to stare after him, dumbfounded, and slightly fluttering in the heart. And she thinks to herself— _have I always been this shy?_

What about all those nights chatting up strangers at bars to gain information, or talking insults directly to a guy who’s held a gun to her head? Where have all those years of being a fearless robot gone? Is this who she really is? Has Elsa Arendelle been so vulnerable  _all this time_?

She brings a hand to her forehead and feels herself burning up a little. She thinks that,  _maybe it's just the guy_. And she chuckles with a little mirth, an explosion in her heart. Because, for the first time in forever, she's never felt  _so normal_  before.

However, the balance doesn't tip so easily for Jackson Overland as he finds himself quickly skating his way out to the school's back garden. The innocence in his grin is replaced with a knowing smirk as he taps on the screen of his wristwatch.

"Eight minutes and thirty-two seconds. So far I've encountered one new student, although she appears to be harmless."

Something clicks, and a barely audible typing sound begins.

"Tsk, I've got time."

Another click.

"Of course."

He stops, looking through the glass windows. Stepping off his board, he lets it roll towards the door, and it opens. Wind and all its sweet smelling glory greets him, along with long blonde hair, and a set of beautiful green eyes. There's also that smile that he's more than just familiar with.

"Hey."

He hums out to the garden, and the girl nods back in response.

"What's got you calling me up so early in the morning? You don't even go to your first period classes, let alone  _before_  school even starts."

"Just, I've been thinking."

"About?"

"Rapunzel Corona."

He speaks as if he's got a whole speech prepared, but he doesn't. Truth be told, he can so easily admit that this girl before him isn't just any other girl – she is  _his lifeline_. But she of all people already knows that. Everything that needed to be said has been said, a million times over, even before this relationship started.

"I love you. But today, it's over."

The silence is still. And the butterflies and pretty flowers that euphemized the scene cannot kill the tension that lingers through the air and suffocates him.

"Oh."

"Do I need to explain?"

"No."

"Then there you go."

"And that's why I'm making this as painless as possible for you. I'm not going to comment on it, and neither are you."

"So, that's just it?"

"That's just it."

And she walks away, just like that. The wind blows past him and her long hair brushes his face. He inhales the familiar vanilla that scented her. He feels the hurt but it's not the break-up that clenches his heart and chokes him. It's the simple way she just let him go. Evidently, she wanted this to end just as much as he did – for different reasons  _of course_.

"Ah, looks like she really got dumped."

A whisper carries through the air, tangled in Rapunzel's long tresses of blonde. She takes a small glance to the side, seeing Jackson to have disappeared off somewhere, and three girls gossiping amongst the bushes.

"I'm sorry."

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. Forgive any errors. For more background information on my inspiration, please check the FFN version of this. Username: _affinity for stars_


End file.
